Christian Questions

 

 

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Church Council Meeting

 

Hello everyone and thank you for attending this church council meeting ... Alleluia and all that!

Now then ... the first item on the agenda I would like to bring to your attention is the parking situation on Sundays.

As you know, we have a small car park at the front of the church, and a much larger one at the back. Could I ask you please when you arrive to church on Sunday to first try to find a parking place at the small front car park. If by parking there you are blocking the entrance to the car park then please park at the larger car park at the back of the church.

Please be careful of any stray sheep that may come into the large car park from the fields beyond our property. 

If you attend the 8:00 am Mass on Sunday morning we would ask you to hurry up and go home quickly after Mass rather than dilly-dally and chat in the car park; or go to the church hall for a cup of tea and a biscuit. 

This is because you still being here after the 8:00 am Mass interferes with the commencement of the 9:15 am Mass; with cars from both car parks leaving at the same time as other  newcomers arrive for the 9:15 am Mass. This causes congestion in both car parks as well as the surrounding streets where cars are parked which have not been parked in either car parks. Also, beware of non-Catholic sheep which may wander into the car park at either Mass times. 

Some parishioners have complained privately that Father Onto Long goes on and on with interminable sermons. The other week, when he started his sermon there was a young newly married couple sitting in the front pew. By the time he finished his sermon they were playing with their grand-children.

I have to report that there have been complaints as to the number of church collections we have at Mass every Sunday. Personally, I don't think three collections are too many ... it is one thing we Catholics do well.

May I remind you please, especially if you have visited the many casinos in town, not to put your casino chips in the collection plate when it comes round. This causes confusion to our church treasurer, Mr Banks, who has to separate all the casino chips and send them to the nearby monastery where they are sorted and taken to the respective casinos to be cashed in. This job is done at the monastery by chip monks.

Now let me turn to the forthcoming Garden Fete to raise money for the Bishop's Maintenance Fund. I did not know he was falling apart; but then when you consider his age some things must be getting a little loose by now!

Anyway ... the first item to mention is the Bingo Stand ... or Lotto ... another Catholic speciality. May I remind you Mr Tom Bola not to call out the numbers in Latin to ensure that only Catholics win. This is hardly fair to our friends from the Churches Ecumenical Fraternity. After all, this is our only yearly opportunity to get some money out of them so let's give them a fighting chance.

On a similar vein, Miss Dollie Parson, may I remind you that last year's naming of the doll competition was a little unfair. Who could have possibly guessed that the doll was named Agape after a Saint of that name? Admittedly, the previous year naming the doll Mary resulted in 237 winners guessing the name correctly; but choosing Agape is far way on the other side of the scale of possibilities. Let's give the non-Catholics a chance to win.

And whose idea was it to hide a brick inside the cake for the guess the weight of the cake contest? Was it you Mrs Mortar?

And another thing, let us not repeat last year's experience with the Lucky Dip barrel. The idea is for people to put their hand into the barrel full of saw dust and retrieve a small prize which will make them happy. Hiding in the barrel bones from half-eaten KFC dinners was totally in bad taste ... 

We believe it is the same person who filled whoopee cushions with chocolate cream and left them lying around in the tea room for guests to sit on.

Regarding the bric-à-brac stall, the idea is to sell unwanted items which you believe people would love and cherish in their homes ... things like objets d'art, curios, elaborately decorated teacups and small vases, compositions of feathers or flowers under glass domes, decorated eggshells, porcelain figurines, painted miniatures or photographs in stand-up frames, and so on. 

It does NOT include selling your mother-in-law ... or your second-hand car ... or your half-eaten pizza which you no longer want. Let's take this seriously folks and bring to the stall things that people with no taste would wish to buy.

There being no other matter on the agenda, I declare this meeting closed.

And the moral is ...

 

Once upon a time there was a priest. After reading the Gospel at Sunday Mass he approached the lectern and said to the congregation, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

Expecting him to talk about the subject of the Gospel they replied "Yes!"

Then the priest said, "In that case there's no point in me preaching to you, is there?" And he continued with the Mass and gave no sermon. This annoyed some in the congregation who expected a sermon each Sunday to set them up for the week.

The following Sunday, again after reading the Gospel he approached the lectern and said, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

This time, without exception, they all said "No!"

The priest replied, "Neither do I", and continued with the Mass and no sermon.

The congregation were irritated and complained. Some wrote to the bishop.   

The following Sunday, again the priest asked, "You have heard today's Gospel. Now do you know what I am going to preach about?"

Some members of the congregation said "Yes!" and others said "No!" 

The priest responded, "Let those who know what I'll speak about tell those who do not know!" and he continued with Mass and no sermon.

This time, because of many complaints to the bishop, the bishop had no option but to call the priest in for a talk. 

Somewhat pensively the old priest explained that he could no longer remember what to say in his sermons, and even though he prepared sermons in writing, he often forgot to bring his written sermons to church, which meant he had no sermon to deliver.

The Bishop sympathized with the elderly colleague and said: “Here's something you could try. Next time you have to give a sermon say in a loud voice ‘I have an announcement to make!’

“This will ensure you have everyone’s attention. They will hang on to your every word.

“Then say just as loudly ‘I have fallen in love with a woman’.

“Now this will certainly have them all listening very carefully and remembering your every word.

“And then calmly tell them about the Virgin Mary, and all the good she did for us. It will be easy. Just speak from the heart of your love for Our Lady”.

The old priest was overjoyed and the following Sunday he stood proudly at the lectern and said loudly:

“I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!”

And sure enough everyone sat up in their pews to listen very carefully. The old priest then continued just as loudly:

“THE BISHOP HAS FALLEN IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN …”

As the congregation stirred in their seats the old priest went on:

“I can’t for the life of me remember her name …”

 

AND THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS: No ... I'll let you decide on the moral. But first ...

 

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Talking with my subconscious

 

Me: Hmmm … I have a few days free right now and maybe I should …

Subconscious: Oh good … we’re going on holiday!

Me: Holiday? No … of course not.

Sub: But, we haven’t been on holiday for sometime.

Me: Yes we did … we went to the seaside for the weekend two years ago … that was nice!

Sub: Wasn’t it just? OK … what will you do with your free days?

Me: Well, I was intending to plan …

Sub: Oh no … not more plans. You’re always planning something; and writing documents, and filing all sorts of bits of paper. It’s your need to be in control of everything. Always planning! Why can’t you let things be? Surprise yourself. Be instantaneous. Let things happen for a change, without any plans and schedules. What is it you’re planning this time?

Me: Well … my funeral, as it happens.

Sub: What?

Me: My funeral.

Sub: Are you feeling well? No aches and pains I should know about? Apart from your brain that is! What’s brought on the sudden need to plan your funeral?

Me: Well … It helps get things organized … you know … when the time comes. It saves the bother and worry for those left behind to have to sort things out.

Sub: But … the whole purpose of dying is to get others to sort things out. It gives them something to do and stops them moping around with miserable faces.

Me: It would be nice to organize the funeral service in church. My favourite readings … favourite hymns …

Sub: Oh no … not those sad hymns. What is it with people and sad hymns at funerals? Why not sing something cheerful?

Me: Like what?

Sub: Like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Maybe people would like to sing those at your funeral rather than your sad hymns.

Me: But people always have mournful songs at funerals.

Sub: Don’t they just? And what is it with that Whitney Houston song from the movies? What’s it called? And I will always love you. With that very long elongated … "I eeeee" which goes on and on before singing "will always love you". What’s all that about?

Me: It’s sad. It depicts the love people have for the person who has died.

Sub: What nonsense. If you really love someone you tell them so when they’re alive. When they’re with you. And you show that love through the way you treat them. Not tell them all about it when they’re dead … When it is too late.

Me: You have a point there …

Sub: I always do. Take my advice. Forget about planning your funeral and go and show your love for somebody.

Me: How well put …

Sub: And another thing … you’re a pain in the neck … working your way South!

 

******* 

 

NOTES: I don't know about your TV but over here we have a lot of depressing adverts about funeral planning, cremations, and how it is better and more responsible to plan ahead for your departure so that your family don't have to bother ... or care. This must be very sad and worrying for many viewers.

 

There seems to be too many adverts with a negative sombre tone; like adverts for care homes, senior citizens sheltered housing, end of life planning and will writing, mobility scooters and so on. Meanwhile, adverts for foods, luxury cars, holidays and cruises always feature young people with families enjoying all that is good in life. You never see ads showing elderly folks with skin that needs ironing in their swimsuits on the beach. It's always the young and beautiful. (Thinks: keep young and beautiful, if you want to be loved.)

 

What's wrong about a photo of me in my swimsuit?

 

I lost my shoe

 

 

I LOST MY SHOE

 

translated into English from

 

 Bizet's "Carmen" Act 1 

 

"L'amour est un oiseau rebelle." 

 

Habanera

 

A plea to women everywhere

 

I so wish women would speak clearly and say what's on their mind. I really can't guess what the problem is can I? I'm not Einstein. 

My wife left a note stuck on the fridge door. It said, "It's not working. I can't take it any more. I'm going to my Mom."

I opened the fridge door and the light came on. The beer was cold and my pizza left-overs was still edible. What did she mean "It's not working"?

I rang her and got the silent treatment. I never understood the silent treatment. Why is not on when there's football on TV?

I spoke to my mother-in-law instead. I won't repeat what she said here.

The long way home

 

I went to the green grocers about a mile or so from our house. I bought some apples, some pears, some potatoes and some carrots. They were quite heavy. About two kilos each of apples, pears and carrots and three kilos of potatoes.

The green grocer put them in a plastic bag which I carried back home. It was a long walk with all that weight.

Then suddenly the bag burst under all this weight and there were apples, pears, potatoes and carrots all over the ground.

How do I carry them home, I thought, I can't leave them there. I might be caught on security cameras and accused of throwing litter in the street. Then genius struck. It won't be said I am not resourceful or inventive.

I took off the shoe laces from my boots and tied them very tight round the legs of my trousers; just above the ankles.

Then I put the fruits and vegetables down my trousers. I put them in from the waist.

When they were all tucked in my trouser legs I tightened my belt even more so as not to lose my trousers and held on to them by putting my hands in my pockets.

My legs were swollen by the weight of the fruits and vegetables therein.

I started my walk back home. It was like walking in the sea with water up to my waist. Very slow and very tiring.

Because I had no shoe laces I risked losing my boots if I lifted my feet up.

So I slid one foot a few inches forward; then slid the other foot next to it, then slid my foot a little further forward again, and slid my other foot near it.

Because my legs were swollen to more than twice their original size; the sliding forward was done in a semi-circle fashion rather than straight ahead as you would expect.

This walking, or sliding forward a few inches at a time, with my hands in my pockets was quite tiring, I tell you.

Everyone was watching me and wondering what was wrong with me. People coming up ahead towards me, suddenly stopped and crossed the road on the other side. They did not want to meet me in case my swollen legs syndrome was catching.

Others wondered why I had my hands in my pockets and shouted obscenities at me.

Cars nearly bumped into each other as they stopped to look at me rather than the way ahead.

Some drivers wound their windows down and shouted something unrepeatable here.

I eventually got home. My wife was not impressed by my ingenuity at carrying the fruits and vegetables home when I took off my trousers revealing all.

You are the light of the world

 

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16

What did Jesus mean about us being a light of the world?

We all have a Christ given mission to go and preach the Good News of God to everyone. Christianity is not a "just for me" religion.

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:19-20

We live in a secular world and it is therefore incumbent upon us to spread some Christian light wherever and whenever we can. By the way we live, the way we act, and even by the way we use social media and our Blogs. A short article every now and then would go a long way in lighting up a dark and often cynical World Wide Web.

But wait a minute. Jesus also said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." John 8:12

In truth, Jesus is the light of the world not us. We are here to reflect His glory and His teachings. Very much like the moon. It does not by itself generate light; but it reflects the light of the sun.

Do you remember in days of old bicycles had a little red reflector at the back underneath the seat? It did not shine light. But when a car came behind you with its lights on the reflector would glow red and warn the driver of your presence.

Likewise, our reflectors should be bright and clean to shine for all to see. A reflector which becomes dirty with sin is of no use at all at being the light of the world. 

Psychiatric Dilemma

 

A psychiatrist friend of mine went to see a psychiatrist. Now that is not the same as a doctor seeing a doctor. When a doctor is not well, he goes to see another doctor and explains the symptoms and the diagnosis he arrived at. Then he asks the other doctor if he agrees and whether a specialist's opinion is in order.

Not so with psychiatrists. With them it is all in the mind. As someone once said: If someone thinks he needs to see a psychiatrist he should have his head examined.

Anyway, this psychiatrist friend of mine went to see a psychiatrist. As he entered his insulting room he said, "Help me doctor. People keep ignoring me."

The insulting psychiatrist said, "Who said that?"

"Me," replied the first psychiatrist seeking an opinion, "I said people keep ignoring me and my psychiatrist advice. What should I do?"

"Join them," said the second psychiatrist.

"Is that really your advice?" asked my friend. "To let people ignore me?"

"Who said that?" said the insulting psychiatrist.

"Me ... I just said it," replied my friend.

"Oh do forgive me," said the other psychiatrist, "I have lost my hearing aid and I can't hear you properly."

"Let me help you find it," said my friend helpfully.

"Oh ... thank you. I have looked here everywhere and could not find it!"

"When and where did you last remember seeing it ... or hearing it?" asked my friend.

"Oh ... it was at home this morning. I must have lost it there!"

"You lost it at home?" asked my friend, "why did you search for it here then?"

"Oh ... the lighting in my insulting room is much better than at home. So I thought I'm more likely to find it here!"

"But shouldn't you be looking at home?" insisted my friend.

"Not really," replied the second psychiatrist, "I know exactly where it went. It fell in my corn flakes this morning and I must have swallowed it!"

"You swallowed your hearing aid?" repeated my friend.

"Yes I did ..." replied the other psychiatrist, "now I hear everything as if it was faint and coming from within a cave. And whenever I break wind I answer myself!"

"So you can still hear with the hearing aid within you?" asked my friend.

"That's right," said the other psychiatrist, "what do you say to that?"

"This too shall pass!" replied my friend.

"I hope so," said the other psychiatrist, "in the meantime I have to ask people to talk to me through my navel! Now what can I do for you?"

"Oh ... nothing," said my friend, "I've just been healed. You are the first person not to ignore me and listen!"

"Who said that?" asked the insulting psychiatrist.

I am really HOT !!!

A friend of mine is quite an inventor. He is always in his little hut at the bottom of the garden making different gadgets and things “to make life better”. Or so he claims. I must admit that some of his inventions are somewhat innovative although I can’t see them catching on and becoming best sellers. For example he has put a little red LED light at the back of his cap which lights up when he goes out walking at night so that vehicles can see him. Practical? Yes … Fashionable … I don’t think so!

The other day he asked me to test his latest invention.

He has somehow managed to weave a very thin wire backwards and forwards inside the lining of a jacket which he bought from a shop. He then connected the wires to a battery the size of a small book which he placed in the inside pocket of the jacket. By flicking a switch the wires warm up gently and keep you warm on cold winter days.

Now I’m sure that I read about similar devices somewhere or other; but my friend assures me that his system is different … I couldn’t understand a word of what he said in techno language, so I nodded politely and smiled.

He took my nodding as acquiescence to testing the “Warma-Coat”; as he calls it.

I put the jacket on one cold and breezy morning and walked to the local shops to buy my newspapers and some chocolates. I just can’t read the papers without chocolates. Somehow they make me concentrate better. But I digress.

On my way to the shops the electric system in my jacket must have short-circuited because I got a slight twinge in my right shoulder which made me wince a little.

I ignored it and carried on walking when it happened again, only a little stronger.

Fortunately, it stopped for a while whilst I was shopping, but when I came to the check-out to pay for my goods … it happened again but much stronger this time. I recoiled a little and grimaced somewhat at the electric shock.

“Are you winking at me?” asked the beautiful young female cashier.

“No … I’m not.” I replied embarrassingly as I winked at her once more.

“There … you did it again” she said, “what’s the matter with you?”

I was about to reply when a further electric shock made me smile involuntarily and wink at her twice.

“You’re being suggestive … you are!” she cried in a loud voice, “I’ll call the manager!”

Seconds later the manager appeared out of nowhere with a security man. She must have pressed some hidden panic button, I suppose.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.

“Mr Thornicroft … this customer is making suggestive innuendos by winking at me!” she complained.

“Is this true sir?” he asked, “we take exception to improper behavior by our customers towards our employees!”

“I assure you that I did not do or imply anything improper” I replied as I winked at him twice.

“Sir … you are quite out of order” he said sternly as he saw me wink, “I’ll have to ask you to leave these premises or we will call the police!”

 

As I tried to explain my innocence he noticed a plume of smoke rising from my right shoulder.

“Sir … have you been smoking? It is a criminal offence to smoke in public places and I may have to detain you until the police arrives” interrupted Mr Thornicroft as he motioned to the security guard to do his business.

A crowd soon gathered by the check-out as other shoppers became interested in my dilemma. Why can’t people just mind their own business and continue shopping?

“I assure you I don’t smoke …” I protested as the security guard attempted to put his hand on my right shoulder then thought it better not to.

“I don’t smoke … but my shoulder clearly does!” I said trying to make light of the situation.

And that’s exactly what happened next. The right shoulder did light up in green flames and acrid black smoke.

The manager quickly picked up a two-litre bottle of beer and emptied it on my head whilst the security guard got hold of a foam emitting fire extinguisher and covered me in foam from head to toe.

I can announce that beer and foam don’t mix. Some got into my mouth with dire results.

As I was led out of the store coughing and spluttering I heard a customer explain to another “Instant combustion … it happens a lot you know. It’s more common than you think!”

I cleaned the foam as best I could and walked back home never to return to that shop again … and never to trust an inventive friend.

 

This was an excerpt from my memoirs 

 

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How obligated are you?

 

 A thought occurred to me the other day whilst praying; "How obligated are you to tell people about Jesus?"

What an odd thought to come to mind. But then, I thought, Jesus told us to tell everyone about Him.

Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:18-20

Of course, we can't all be preachers, pastors or priests. And if we go around telling everyone about Jesus we may be doing more harm than good. At best, people will humour us politely; at worst we could be switching them off altogether about Christianity.

Yet, that said, we can always witness to what God has done for us every now and then when writing on social media. A visit to the doctor which turned out better than expected perhaps, or some good news from family or friends, all these are examples that God was/is by our side whenever we need Him most. Surely a cause to celebrate with others; and to encourage them perhaps to find out more about this God we claim to love so much.

A mention every now and then goes a long way.

Let Jesus read about Himself on your Blogs and social media.

Gone with the wind

 

At our supermarket car park you usually pick up a ticket at the barrier which you place inside your windscreen so that the car park attendant can easily see it when he does his rounds. When you leave, you hand the ticket at the exit barrier and you pay as you exit. So it is imperative you do not lose your parking ticket.

I’d finished shopping and I placed all my goods in the car. As I opened the driver’s door a gust of wind blew the ticket out of the car. I chased after it. It went under another parked car some yards away. I looked around for the car park attendant – there was no one to be seen. 

I knelt down and there winking at me teasingly was the ticket under a parked van. It was just out of reach as it smiled at me saying: “Come and get me!”

I went totally flat on my tummy and stretched my arm right out under the van, inching forwards a bit at a time until I touched the ticket with my fingertips. Another stretch and … “Got it!”

At this point I heard a woman say: “Are you all right, Sir?”

I eased myself from under the car as she said, “You seem to have fainted, Sir; and rolled under this van!”

Before I could explain myself she had called the car park attendant who now appeared out of nowhere. 

 

The attendant called for help on his walkie-talkie radio. Another shop assistant turned up with a chair followed by someone else with a glass of water.

“Sit down Sir …” they all seemed to say in unison, “have a sip to drink!”

I tried to explain what had really happened …

“He’s delirious poor soul …” said the woman who first found me on the ground, “he doesn’t know what he’s saying … maybe he hit his head hard as he fell!”

“I did not fall …” I said biting my lip to suppress any insults on my mind, “I went down on my knees voluntarily!”

“Did you want to pray, dear?” she asked patronisingly, "don't be concerned, the Good Lord loves you and will forgive all your sins if you ask Him. You do not have to kneel here in the middle of the car park! He is everywhere, you know?" then turning to the others she mumbled, “he doesn’t know where he is … thinks he’s in church poor soul! It happens to some people with age!”

What a damn cheek ... what did she mean by people with age? I am younger than her and could race her any day at drinking a chocolate milkshake faster than her. Besides, she looked ugly with her condescending religious voice that would turn any man to sin.

At this point the first aider turned up with his bag with a red cross on it. He opened it and asked, “Is he bleeding? Where did he hit his head? Does he want mouth to mouth resuscitation; only I don't like doing that. You don't know what germs you can pick up from a dying man, do you? Have you got any communicable diseases that I should know of, Sir? Or any of a sexual nature?”

Before I could answer something that he would remember for the rest of his life, the assistant manager turned up and asked me, “Are you making a complaint and seeking compensation, Sir? We'll deny all responsibilities, whatever they are. You'd be surprised how many people pretend to have been run over by stationary cars just to claim compensation!”

I remained calm under the circumstances and shouted, "Would you all get the hell out of here ... except this idiot pretending to be the ass manager!"

This gave me the opportunity to explain matters to someone who might be able to listen. They all looked at me in surprise and walked away mumbling to each other.

The assistant manager looked a bit of an idiot; but in dire times a bit of an idiot is better than none.

I told him what happened and assured him I had not intention of making any complaint or seek compensation. I just wanted to leave this stupid car park manned by escaped lunatics.

He went away much relieved. He told me the gate-keeper will let me out if I showed him my parking ticket.

As I reached the exit barrier the attendant there wanted to charge me a fee for overstaying my allotted time.

I had to explain all over again why I had stayed longer than the allotted parking time. He called the assistant manager who asked the attendant to let me out. The attendant refused. An argument ensued between the two of them and neither wanted to give way.

At this point a cashier turned up with a bag of onions in his hands, "are you the gentleman who forgot these at the cash desk?" he asked.

As the assistant manager and the car park attendant were arguing, I got out the car. Put my head through the kiosk opening and pushed a button on the panel marked OPEN. To my surprise, both men ignored me as they continued arguing about company policy.

 

I got in the car and left.

The moral of this story is:

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